Tucked away in the affluent niche of Barnsbury, the Hemingford Arms can be a pleasant spot for a drink. Its a handsome old pub, festooned with ivy, hanging baskets and window boxes and its cosy interior has a plethora of objects hanging from the ceiling and on the walls: these include a set of hickory golf clubs, film posters, trumpets and the odd Methodist church sign. These appear to be a genuine assortment of oddities rather than, as so often elsewhere, a cynical effort to give the place a fo